We'll go slowly starting out hereto get used tothe procedure.I might quote from earlier works.Stop to stub my toe.Steve. Spelling?I might stop to appreciatethe form of the line.I am easily hurt,but don'tcry easily. Change the words.Remind you of your part in this,now change the subject.Trees, for instance."It's not amatterof necessitybut of contingency," the text said.David saysSteve is coming late winter/early spring.In whatway ismy vocabularyset?What the wordsthe colorbluestill reminds me of.But I don'tcry easily.There is muchthat I can do, andI willdo a part of it.Okay.Because we're separatingour finances,everything isa negotiation.I becomeinhabited by ghost translators--thosewhom I have electedto translate.Alternating voices,alienatingvoicesfrom distractionI revise this as I go along.As with peopleso with so-called'truth' or 'the case':all their moleculeshave changed sincethis was written, andthey are no longer the same,even thoughan identity appearsremarkable,recognizablethroughthem. If their presence isactive it is myourinvolvement with them:they consist in just this.You want theoriginalto be definitive.Meanwhile, I end.A convincing applicationof the world"I."Now thisspace--is moreproblematicalthan anotherfor a give & take?If so, . . . several fields,and pain.Performance & dialogue &audienceparticipationin performancenot the same asdialogue in social spaces (i.e., Doyou need these notes? (everyother letter)After I don't [wantto] tell you what todoLOSS:distancefromthe source;disconnectionfromthe person.That's relaxing.or notto doRead crosswise or down,checkerboard(words framed)in prose or lines.And those filledin likedumpster attacksmarble (wood frames)inmagazine photos.Standard of difference.Genuineleatherdescription.What you may do"When they say speakingis one kind of writing,I can't argue,though it seemshard to agree it's notimpossible."Inherently.for your own reasonsI appreciatethe protection thatyour companyaffords me.Why don't yougo jump inthe lake?Thisinternalrebellion isa requestfor valid principles,notfora revolution.Pops upwith foreign accent:"What has been like your day?"To save space.And the words ruffled in the back of my mindlike darkest taffeta.So what?Do you read these notes?"I'd wear this shit calledAfro Sheen on my hair, which is basically somesugar-water type stuff,I found out later, Ithought it did somethingfor me. Anyway, Iused to practice in the park whenever youwear perfume or something sweet,these bees would fuckwith you.They flew a littlelike hummingbirds, only muchfaster, they'd hover in the airand they'dstop, thishang-fly-hang-fly thing,they would always bemoving,but in a real small space. That fascinated me.It was almost like Muhammad Ali; you would hitat it and it would move a very small motion,and you would miss it. I thoughtabout music, I said,'Cats playstraight up and downin a scalar fashion--nobody plays likethese bees move.'I wanted to play like that,rhythmically and melodically."We might be waiting outsidefor someone with the keyto show up. One personcame, who saidshe had been given the keybut the one in her hand, whetherit's the same one asshe was given or not, doesn't workin the door. We agreewe could just havethe meetingoutside, but ifwe are goingto do that whyhover round the door?Repeat.To save the words ruffledback through my mindSo,what?Do you read these notes?Abusing the mothertongue:"If we are incompetentit is because mother isinadequate." (raw) The only way I'll ever beI like words here, the grey belt ableto remember everythingImagineAny one thingdisplaces the gills of anotherhalfway down your backis to write it downBreathingFirst things should start 1ston either sidebee propolisa fishbut I never have timeA feeling of being unsafeBut you create time!Suppose this were more programmatic.Would you likethat prefer better?Would you find it handier to use? There's a vast need to fill in empty space.Why not just contemplate emptiness?Here I stoop reading talking and thinking,and just do nothing a secret amountof time.When you chant I can reactfrom a secure feeling ofIn this way the words aredisproportionately wideningacross my back andshoulders, insteadof you enchantalligned to thefrom a panic feeling in my stomachand didn't know ityou vomit yourself upI don't want to reTypically I fail to remember anythingI experience in meditationletting the writing be out of control,unmanageablework(space)."work clothes." peatanybody"Artists' House" 747 9961Want to talk?might want to belong"So mystics agree that ifyou're going to talkabout spirit, it's best toah you use negatives--unlimited,unborn, unrestricted, and so on."As long as you can hold on . . . "as for train of thought--the thinker changes direction,scope and parameters a thousandfoldaware, or unaware, alternating,reflexive,iffy, but, unlike speaking out loud,THIS can be known only to the thinker, andthe final word doesn't have tobe any more final than anyothers, unlike in writing,enquote. To set rules for listeningor speakingAnd if should restless horns blasttheHave you prepared love formsSyllabificationtear hereEach person in the audiencegets a slightly different- shapedat this pointsome syllablesmissing were translated neverthelessout ofthe Greek voice.it saysGame structuresWhat it wasimagining was fictional.Anyway."There is no real time inwriting." FuCk YoU!he said really meaningit.Noshunof a complete dispensabilityof procedures.The subject in process isblunt hard,not to be identified thenwith the text as process."This is not me.After a while I'd like No!Writing backwards, or inside out,the secret breaks in two."'Why not!?'"Everyman enters and looks aroundthe bookstore, slams his hand downon the counter and sayship, shoved againstthe newspapers,"What can you give me thatmy daughter can read?She's in 3rd grade. And she's not dumb!"I've taken in an orangefrom the coolerbefore coming on my shift,in casea sea change I allowthe face of the 'always already'as I enters.Alreadythe construction[constriction]of the worldis dead,and writing . . . in language!Hah!One's speech to be at liberty to subvertthe law, from what?something topological.To exist in abject now "'Why!?'"Who is a manstanding on his handsin it, stuck under his feet.To think I learn isribbon streaming through them;or elsethe feet are in the mind-humbled airon the blank page, head twistedreasonablyto look right at you,a modest peasant skylight behind--this is how I organize myleaning life, Ned thought,disappearing smoke appearing throughthe evening some time.To learn I thinkis novel,mind hummed ina pleasant plaster bag.We lean against the car in the evening,buffeting the scenewith our gnat thoughts . . . How far away is screen? . . That'swhat gnats ask,circling in their media,and to whom? Hence,it is said,if you havea chestfull of clothing,and leave itfor a long time,the clothing will rot inside it.It is the samewith the thoughtsin our heart.As a reader, I aman authority,possibly evenobliged,who speaks is in I am,doom, like a spectacular samurai more realthan I,place in that or I acceptmyself. "'Why I don't know, who speaksas if it were monologue"The thought that accompanies andis said to be'expressed in' writing seldomtakes place without the writing--Or at least, whenit takes place without
writing,it’s different, from what it would have beenif it had been accompanied writing.And after writingthe writermay well disappear--inevitably does,since the person who reads aloudor silentlyor explicatesis no longerthe author at the momentof writing.And speech weavesamong the other two,interrupting and modifyingthem whenit seems most silentor absent."Unfelt, he’d saidliterature w/o feeingmonumentality of all that.Escape in allinkills the writher.If I number fiction,making provisional anotherfail to granted, but feel, yes,writing,I change everything--even me--into the materials ofthat action,Is it harder in daylight?this beforeStripes.[Copy in materialfrom notebooks, writing . . . ]inquiry?makes a shambles of its predecessor,this glazed-eyed lunaticI the moment of writing.And two, positions.When the moon is full,one sees it isn't gone;the self,
trailinginspired attacks on quandaryin a gleeful rage of ersatz satisfaction.When,its tangled resume of rest inparadox, mumbled prayers, motion, emotionscrambles to the highest rise in its One!"like a characterin a playspeech weaves among the othera thousand slipshod speculations,lights dimming or failing . . . dayInside that structureThe crisscross form set on top ofthe otherinto attentionburning the equipmentescaping through the knee, patterningthe floor. The horror-- Oh oh-- And covering whitewashnext door, faking it,